An Unlikely Tale of Love
by symphonies of you
Summary: "That facade of malevolence woven by my upbringing was almost entirely false; I sort of became another person that I was actually not. I wasn't myself." Written for the "Write me a fantasy" challenge on the HPFC Forum. ::One-shot::Dramione::Trio Era::


**Hey, back with another story. But with my trio era OTP: DRAMIONE!**

**Hope you enjoy! xx**

**Pairing choice: Draco/Hermione**

**Prompts: "Beauty and the Beast (Tale as old as time)" from Disney's Beauty and the Beast, Midnight, Murder**

**Quote: "All it takes is faith and trust..."**

* * *

><p>It was snowing that one fateful night. Flurries of snowflakes fell swiftly and gracefully to the earth. Searching the seemingly empty streets for any suspicious persons wandering around at night, Hermione Granger visibly relaxed as she perceived none. She cautiously crossed the cobblestoned streets of Hogsmeade with her deep brown eyes darting to and fro at the slightest movements. Hogsmeade was ever so <em>dangerous<em> since the Final Battle at Hogwarts several months ago. She trembled at the recollection of the countless deaths of many loved ones and shuddered at the remembrance of Madam Rosmerta being Imperiused near where she was standing now. The Three Broomsticks. She held her breath when she heard a familiar, weak shout for help. A few more yells of pain and agony rippled through the otherwise still night, and then a final cry of sudden death resulting from the soft mutter of "_Avada Kedavra_." She quickly turned a street corner and gasped when she saw the bloody, mangled outline of a former schoolmate's body. A former _Gryffindor_, nonetheless. The sightless eyes of Neville Longbottom were staring blankly into the star-studded midnight sky.

Her stomach reeled at the spectacle of her old friend looking so motionless, so lifeless. Neville had been a shy, frightened boy her age who couldn't find his deeply-buried courage in times of need. But in their seventh year, when Harry, Ron, and she were looking for Horcruxes, he finally found his treasure trove of valor and nerve to defy the Death Eaters that took residence in their second home, Hogwarts. He persevered and emanated the bravery that his parents, Frank and Alice, would've been _ohsovery_ proud of. And now, now he was dead. Brutally _murdered_. Who would dare torture and kill this valiant young man? She sank to her knees and gently touched his dead, cold face. It was too much for her to take in all at once on the eve of Christmas.

_She fainted._

o0*.-o-.*0o

_Tale as old as time_

_True as it can be_

_Barely even friends _

_Then somebody bends_

_Unexpectedly_

-:-

He was strolling down the snow-laden streets of Hogsmeade when he saw two distinct forms lying side by side in the snow from a few lengths away. Draco frowned and sauntered over to discover who they were. It was Neville Longbottom, dead and mutilated, and Hermione Granger, the filthy, unconscious mudblood. She looked so helpless…and innocent. He had been horribly scarred by the past two eventful years of Voldemort's atrocious preparations to overcome Potter. All the dreadful experiences he plunged through in the Dark Lord's service made him yearn to do something good, something beneficial for the world. He wanted to try to erase the memory of his unforgettable evildoings and replace them with good. But he knew that was simply impossible. His father had forced him into this cowardly life of his, and now he had to unwillingly live with it forever. Draco didn't think anyone would ever forgive him. _He_ couldn't even forgive _himself_.

He closely peered at her face. She looked so serene, with a tiny frown upon her lips and cheeks rosy from the cold. The mass of light brown curls spread apart from her face were vibrant and lively, completely contrasting that dull, limp hair of Neville Longbottom's. He sighed and reluctantly picked up her slender body in his arms. The silver-eyed boy tensed when she uttered a soft sigh and shifted in his arms. When she relaxed against his chest, he nervously gulped and Apparated to Malfoy Manor. Malfoy Manor was now his to run because his father had been killed by Potter, and his mother had recently died from some unknown sickness probably caused by depression and lack of food intake. He carried her up the spiraling staircase to a guestroom endowed by silver curtains, oriental rugs, a rather large bed, a marble dresser, and a wooden night table. Draco opened a drawer and took some parchment and a quill from the night table. He hurriedly wrote her an apologetic note in his messy scrawl.

_Granger,_

_You fainted last night on Pearlby St. in Hogsmeade, probably from seeing Longbottom dead. And I happened to notice you while taking a late midnight stroll. You're currently in my home. Sorry, I didn't know where you lived. As you are reading this, I have probably gone back to Pearlby St. to take Longbottom's body to the Ministry to inspect. Ask any house elf for breakfast if you would like something to eat._

_Draco Malfoy_

He placed the note beside her sleeping form on the night table and went next door to his room. He changed into his silk pajamas and fell asleep instantly on his bed.

…

She awoke to the sound of song birds trilling sweetly near the window, and then she bolted upright with wide, perplexed eyes at the unfamiliarity of the well-furnished room she was in. The brown-haired girl of eighteen noticed a note beside the bed. She read it with her brow furrowed at the name _Draco Malfoy_. Why in the world was there a note from _Malfoy_ of all people? Then she remembered fainting in the snow from the sight of Neville dead on Christmas Eve. Why would Malfoy of all people assist her? Why didn't he just amble off and leave her there in the snow? Had he finally decided to change for the better? Was his cold heart of ice beginning to melt? She contemplated the unrealistic idea of the ferret turning "good" as she descended the stairs. Hermione's jaw dropped as she viewed Malfoy's home for the second, and hopefully final, time in her life. It was lavishly decorated with beautiful paintings, ancient relics and heirlooms, and costly objects and rugs. Every room was comprised of marble flooring and was swathed with long, well-designed curtains of pale colors and delicate lace. His painfully quiet home was abnormally _enormous_ unlike her cozy, small house constantly filled with noise and laughter. It looked completely different from the last she saw it.

"Hullo, miss. My name is Henrick. We do not normally tolerate people of your blood status, but Master Draco said we must be kind to you. And the estate is charmed so that no guests can leave without the master's permission. Would you like some breakfast?" vociferated a somber, old house-elf with distaste as she entered the lovely dining room.

"Hullo, Henrick. Yes, I would love some eggs, scrambled please, and toast with jelly," replied Hermione in a surprised tone at the mention of Malfoy ordering his elves to be "kind" to her, ignoring the jab at her blood status.

Henrick snapped his fingers, and a flowery china plate with scrambled eggs and toast with jelly appeared. She quickly wolfed down her breakfast and handed Henrick her plate. Henrick disappeared in a flash, leaving her to explore the house. A warm tingle of excitement coursed through her body as she dashed into the nearest room to discover new things, and perhaps new books. She had stepped into the Malfoy Library. Her eyes shone with wonder and awe at the books before her. Oh, what a glorious sight it was to see ancient tomes and ample books waiting to be opened and read! She had never seen so many books in her life. It had even more books than the library at Hogwarts! She scurried around, plucking numerous books off the dusty wooden shelves. Hermione climbed atop the ladder and swung around, giggling in pure delight as she inspected different books on higher shelves ranging from topics about grindylows and dark creatures to defense spells, jinxes, and hexes.

-:-

_Just a little change_

_Small to say the least_

_Both a little scared_

_Neither one prepared_

_Beauty and the Beast_

-:-

She curled up on a plush, Gryffindor-red armchair in a corner of the magnificent library poring over copious books for hours, and she didn't eat any lunch due to her late awakening. Startled at the sound of a heavy wooden door opening and closing, she stood up and shakily drew her wand when she saw a slight, tall figure entering. It was Malfoy, the very person she had been dreading seeing all day.

"Hey, Granger. Sorry for taking so long and keeping you…_captive_ here," he said with a smirk on his pointy face.

She slipped her wand back into the folds of her robes and sat back down on the crimson armchair without a single word in response. She went back to her intensive reading, paying little attention to his small movements about the room. He stopped for a moment and mounted upon the ladder swinging to an interesting section of the library. The silvery blond-haired boy of eighteen reached his hand for a fascinating leather-bound book of, surprisingly, _fables_. Draco carefully sifted through a few pages, examining it for something, some significant piece of information.

Suddenly, penetrating the quiescent stillness of the library, he quietly questioned, "Do you think it possible for someone to have a sudden change of heart and be forgiven for all his wrongdoings, in spite of all he had done to so many guiltless people?"

She paused amid her reading with contemplation furrowing her brow. Hermione was stunned beyond words at the unexpected inquiry uttered by Malfoy. The curly-haired girl opened her mouth to speak, "Yes, indeed it is. Why, are you trying to become a nicer person? Seems almost impossible for you, Malfoy."

He frowned ever-so-slightly. He took a deep breath, looked her directly in the eyes, and expressed what was troubling him, "Just hear me out, Granger. I never asked to be like this. My father forced me into this wretched life, and my mum couldn't do anything because she was bloody _terrified_ of my ruthless father. All of that blood purity was just a pretense, a show for my father. If I had shown any sign of 'weakness,' he would've beaten me and tortured me. He had formed me into a malicious, cruel-hearted person. I know I was a bloody coward. But that was back then when I had no choice but to obey him. I was forced into Voldemort's service; it wasn't by choice. Voldemort was infuriated and disappointed by my father's actions and failures; he chose to amuse himself by ordering me to kill Dumbledore. He knew that I wasn't a bad person by choice or blood and that I wouldn't be able to do it. He wanted an excuse to finish my parents off. That facade of malevolence woven by my upbringing was almost entirely false; I sort of became another person that I was actually not. I wasn't myself. And I'm truly sorry for not doing anything that time Aunt Bella used the Cruciatus Curse on you. If I had a second chance at life, I would've ran away from home as a child and somehow lead a normal life without evil seeping into every moment of the day. Just give me a second chance to prove myself. _Please_."

The bemused girl chewed on her bottom lip. Draco Malfoy had just poured out his heart to her, a Muggle-born witch that he barely knew. How was she supposed to react to this astounding proclamation of his? She was usually quite forgiving, but this was _Malfoy_. The slimy git who had insulted her blood status for _seven years_. The arrogant Slytherin who had gone out of his way to make her life miserable for _seven years_. The ferret who had thought himself better than others and bragged upon his wealth and his being a pureblood with the right mind about Muggle-borns for _seven years_. The bigheaded prat who constantly wreaked havoc upon Harry, Ron, and her for _seven years_. And he was the guy who always found excuses for the trio to get into trouble for _seven years_. Had he really been concealing his true self all this time? Was he actually a good, compassionate person inside despite all the horrible things he did? She was honestly puzzled by this baffling matter and didn't know what to say.

"Well, I _suppose_ I could give you a chance. But if you mess this up, you'll regret it," she replied in a warning tone that was filled with distrust.

A face-splitting grin materialized onto his face at her words. His heart was literally leaping for joy that someone was willing to lend him an opportunity to live the way he meant to live. He was grateful and rather thankful that Granger had such a relenting heart, that she was sympathetic enough to try to vindicate him of his misdeeds. Perhaps they could be friends?

"If we're going to be within one another's company, you're going to have to call me Hermione and not by my surname," she muttered.

"Same to you," he replied, chuckling at her verbal response to the joy clearly evident on his face.

She gave way to a tiny smile that graced her lips, leading to a new friendship.

-:-

_Ever just the same_

_Ever a surprise_

_Ever as before_

_Ever just as sure_

_As the sun will rise_

-:-

Draco silently settled down next to her on a forest green couch and began scrutinizing his book of fables. Soon enough, Henrick emerged with a loud _crack_ and announced that their dinner was prepared and ready for them to eat. Draco, ever the gentleman, got up from the couch and offered his pale hand to Hermione, who reluctantly took it and got up with such grace that made him stare at her fluid movements as they walked together to the elegant dining room. They sat down opposite each other on beautifully-carved wooden chairs. The marble table held platters of roasted chicken, buttered peas, potatoes, and quite a few desserts. Hermione's chocolate brown eyes widened at the extensive amount of food laid out before her. The food awaiting her could've rivaled Hogwarts' meals. She ravenously devoured the food on her plate as Draco watched her amusedly, taking small bites of his meal. She finished her dinner rather quickly unlike the pale-haired boy in front of her, who wasn't quite so famished.

Hermione initiated the first topic of the somewhat placid evening. "So, when are you going to let me out of your home?" she asked.

Draco was hoping to avoid this question the whole day, and now it had surfaced among their conversation. "Er, I was sort of hoping you'd stay here with me for a while. Say about a week or two? I've been feeling quite lonely here with no one for company except for the house-elves and haven't had any guests recently. Would...would you mind?" he shyly implored.

Her heart-shaped face softened at his words and the revealing of his lonesomeness in the massive manor of his with no one else occupying it. She readily agreed and excused herself from the dining table. Rushing up the stairs to her contemporary room, she chose a quill and a spare piece of parchment from the drawers of her night table. Hermione mulled over the decision of informing Harry and Ron, whom she had been rooming with in their flat, where she was currently staying. Hermione bit her lip and chose to divulge to them her present whereabouts; she dipped her quill into a bottle of ink and began writing her letter to them with hope that they'd understand about Draco's circumstances. When she was finished with her detailed letter, she scurried down the stairs with the letter in hand in search of Draco. She tore into the dining room to find that he wasn't there. Sprinting into the library, she found that he also wasn't there. Running into the kitchen, she finally found him sneaking little sugary pastries into his mouth when Henrick's back was turned. He offered her one, which she found explicitly sweet and delightful to her taste.

Then she bashfully requested, "I need to owl Harry and Ron. Do you have an owl I can use?"

His face scrunched up a little, probably remembering his impossibly _stupid_ run-ins with her two, formerly-_impetuous_ best friends. Harry and Ron had cooled down over the years and now had the surprising ability to think more rationally. Hopefully, they would be mature enough to accept that Draco had possibly changed from the insolent, proud boy to a more understanding, compassionate young man. He surprisingly consented and slowly led her outside through the garden of blood-red roses embracing the trellises and purple irises blanketing the lush green grass. She audibly gasped in awe of the beauty of the golden day lilies she passed by; they reminded her of Harry. They approached a small brick building that had a golden-coloured sign embossed with the words "Malfoy's Owlery". Draco muttered a soft '_Alohomora_', and she wordlessly stepped inside after him to discover twelve disgruntled owls comfortably roosting in their corners of the rafter beams overhead. They were all lovely Snowy owls and intelligent Barn owls, purebred she supposed.

"Choose one. You should probably go with Willow over there," Draco addressed, pointing at a beautiful, even-tempered Snowy owl.

She acknowledged his words with a brief nod as she carefully made her way to the owl that so reminded her of Hedwig, Harry's deceased beloved Snowy that kept him company through all the miserable summers spent in his aunt's house. Hermione began tying her letter to Willow's outstretched leg, and the owl took off leaving her wondering about Harry and Ron's reactions to her outrageous news. She softly giggled at the image procured in her mind of their shocked faces alight with wild terror at their girl best friend going to the "dark side". When she turned around, Draco was gone without a trace; she began making her way back slowly to take in the glorious sight of the entrancing flowers surrounding her. The brown-haired girl sunk to her knees in the long green grass and absentmindedly fingered the velvet-soft pink petals of a nearby orchid, deep in thought about the day's bewildering events. What had she gotten herself into? Staying in her _former_ enemy's home to throw him a pity party or whatever? Her prim, logical self years ago would've said no to his invitation without a thought and haughtily sniffed at his impudence to offer her to stay in his home. _He_ was the one to first call her a _Mudblood_, had he not forgotten his foul words over the years? Someone knelt down beside her and tentatively touched her arm. It was Malfoy, and he had a gentle, thoughtful look on his face. Quite a peculiar thought to see Draco _thinking_, for once.

"Thinking about us strangely agreeing to befriends?" he inquired, reading her like a book.

She heaved a huge sigh and nodded once more. He stood up and held out a slender, pale hand to her; she grasped it and shakily got to her feet. They trudged back in silence, both lost in their feelings and thoughts about everything they had just become. They were once enemies, but they were now (**somewhat**) _friends_.

…

Meanwhile, about twenty miles away from the Malfoy Manor, there was a beak quietly tapping on the window of Harry and Ron's spacious flat. Harry frowned and speculated who it could be owling him this late at night. He gasped, widening his emerald green eyes when he noticed an exhausted Snowy owl outside his window; it reminded him of Hedwig, who had tragically died trying to protect him from the Death Eaters pursuing him so long ago. Well, it was only last year, but to him it seemed ages ago. He tugged the window open with a squeak and saw that it was a letter from Hermione. The messy-haired boy exhaled with relief for he had been panicking about Hermione's whereabouts and welfare and had immediately sent a group of Aurors, including a frantic Ron, to search for her. He ripped open the letter and hurriedly scanned through the letter; his eyes widened even further and his jaw dropped with his mouth gaping open like a fish.

"WHAT? She's staying at _Malfoy Manor_? What has gotten into that girl? She's supposed to be sensible and the brightest witch of our age! This certainly does not make any sense!" he shouted, rage rippling across his face.

He cast his patronus, a stag, to inform Ron to instantly Apparate back to their flat because he was bearing grave, _important_ news. Moments later, Ron appeared with a _crack_ and demanded, "What the bloody hell is going on, mate?"

Harry took a deep breath and showed him Hermione's letter, awaiting Ron's response to what was mentioned in the neatly written letter of Hermione's. Ron turned an unattractive tomato red at first which blossomed into an unhealthy purple, contorting his face with anger as he irately bellowed, "WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN'S SOGGING PANTS POSSESSED THATGIRL TO STAY WITH MALFOY IN HIS BLOODY HOUSE? Does she not remember being tortured in that very house? How _dare_ that slimy ferret boy take her hostage! I say we go rescue her now!"

Looking uneasy, Harry replied, "Mate, something's troubling me quite a bit. She seems rather…collected and not terrified or furious or anything. She seems kind of…_content_, y'know? Think about this."

"_Well_, I think he has bewitched her or charmed her or something of that sort. I think it rather fishy that she actually consented to stay with a _bloody, foul, stinking, stupid Malfoy_!" he immediately retorted without missing a beat.

"If you haven't noticed, it's quite late at night. If we want to question her, we should do it in the morning when we look more…_presentable_," he said, taking note of the bedraggled sight of his hot-tempered best friend.

"LOOKING PRESENTABLE DOESN'T MATTER, HARRY! Hermione is in _danger_, don't you understand? We need to go _now_," he belligerently yelled with the angriest look on his face that Harry had ever seen.

"Er, I don't think that 'Mione is _truly_ in danger, Ron. Just…we'll do this first thing in the morning, okay?" Harry said quietly.

Ron noisily inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm his cantankerous self down and rein in the vicious emotions soaring through his mind. He reluctantly agreed and headed towards his room to get ready for bed. The green-eyed young man ran his hand through his already unkempt jet-black hair as he pondered the meaning of Hermione's words, how she seemed to be quite…_compassionate_ and sympathetic about Malfoy, not aggravated or upset or anything of the sort. It was all too confusing to contemplate this late at night; he sluggishly raised his left arm and checked the time on his watch—11:30 p.m. Harry let out a huge yawn and blearily blinked his eyes; he traipsed back to his room—his bed welcoming him to a dreamless sleep.

-:-

_Tale as old as time_

_Song as old as rhyme_

_Bitter sweet and strange_

_Finding you can change_

_Learning you were wrong_

-:-

Hermione woke up to a light tapping on her door. She opened it a little and peeked at who it was; it was a pale Draco looking slightly uneasy. She cocked her head to the side in question to the uncomfortable look on his face. And he softly mumbled, "I received your owl just a few minutes ago. They're coming right now, and they seem like they're going to _attempt_ to murder me."

She laughed at the expression on his handsome—did she really just think that?—face. Taking in a deep breath, she mumbled, "Well, I'm going to get myself ready and make myself look somewhat presentable to…_discuss_ and somehow sort out this perturbing situation that we've gotten into."

He nodded with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and left her alone in her room again to change and freshen herself up. She hummed a Muggle tune as she wandered around the room, examining newfound objects that she hadn't noticed before. Then she finally noticed an old photograph encased in a silver frame adorned with a few emeralds; it was a young, smiling boy with short white-blonde hair with a beautiful, thin woman wrapping her slender arms around him. Gasping at the astounding sight of a joyful Draco and who she presumed was his mother, she stared and stared, branding the image into her mind for she had never seen him in such a good light. He never smiled at Hogwarts, he only smirked or sneered. A round of raised, angry voices, mostly belonging to Ron, floated up to her room, causing her to stumble and quickly change into a comfortable shirt, sweater, and jeans. She grabbed her wand because you never knew with Ron if magic was necessary to bring him out of his tempers and captious arguments and raced down the stairs towards the living room, where the loud infuriated voices were coming from.

"Hullo, guys. What are you doing screaming at this noise level this early in the_ morning_?" she inquired, feigning innocence though she knew the exact reason for their mindless quarreling.

"'Mione! We were so _worried_ about you! What were you thinking running off on us like that? I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one," Harry exclaimed, throwing his arms around her and enveloping her in a tight hug.

She grinned in spite of herself, but her wide smile disappeared when she noticed Ron looking livid with animosity in his eyes, probably about the whole baffling matter. Frowning at his lack of understanding about the whole predicament, she began to exasperatedly explain to him the purpose of her agreement: to keep Draco company. But this caused Ron to become even angrier and start shouting again, this time about how they were now on a first-name basis. Apparently, that was too astonishing—in a bad way, of course—for the tall, red-headed boy to consider.

"'MIONE! How could you betray us like this? You're supposed to _hate_ the stupid ferret, not be _friends_ with him. Have you forgotten what he's done to us over the years? Merlin, that makes me sound _old_ when I say it like that…" he roared.

Harry, who was the more reasonable out of the two, mussed up his hair as he tried to think this out, "Ron, you have to think more rationally about this matter. Y'know…I think that Hermione isn't doing anything _bad_ through this. I mean…Mal—_Draco_ does seem rather lonely, being the only person in the household. Don't you think he needs some consoling?"

Ron's face just grew redder at Harry's unexpected words and yelled, "NOT YOUTOO, HARRY! The foul prick doesn't even _have_ a heart—how can he be lonely? Don't you see? Malfoy meant this to be a trick; he's probably going to kill Hermione in her sleep or something. Remember his blood purity mindsets?"

The latter just shook his head amusedly at Ron's antics and assumptions as Hermione exasperatedly snapped, "Ronald Bilius Weasley! Shut your trap now before I hex you into oblivion. First of all, he _does_ have a heart. All human beings have a heart even if they do bad things-"

"BUT HE'S NOT HUMAN. He's too horrible to bean actual person. I thought you were supposed to be _clever_, for goodness sake!" he shouted.

Hermione just shook her head; this "civil conversation" was getting nowhere. She looked at Harry, and the two shared a look of understanding about the complicated situation between Draco and her. Harry just took Ron's arm and disapparated, with Draco's nod of permission allowing them to leave.

Draco smirked and brazenly asked, "Are you _sure_ the Weasel doesn't like you more than just a friend?"

She shrugged and headed toward the kitchen for her stomach had just growled, suggesting that she was quite famished. He followed after her, snapping his fingers for Henrick to bring them breakfast. After the elderly house-elf appeared with plates heaped with eggs and ham and glasses of milk, they took the plates and thanked him as they walked to the dining room. They sat down and began wolfing down their breakfast, barely coming up for air in between bites. Hermione, again, started their affable discussion.

"So, er, I found an old photograph of, I think, you and your mother in my room," she awkwardly stated.

Draco paused amid his eating and swallowed, "Er, yeah. My mum and I were really close; my father brought us apart over the years. But her last word was my…my name. I felt really guilty for not protecting Mother from Father's wrath over the years. She was always so fragile."

Her heart hurt for him as she heard the raw emotion in his voice when he slowly spoke about his mother, proving Ron wrong about Draco not having a heart. She couldn't believe that Draco had been hiding all of this over the years, how good he was at concealing his compassionate self and pretending that life was a play and some things were just not meant to be shared. He always used to display an air of indifference and arrogance around others; he never actually let anyone really see him. It shocked her that he was truly capable of letting his feelings loose in front of her despite the coldness he had shown over the years. Then again, his father had developed him into an unfeeling, emotionless person. She rather liked this nice side of Draco—a passionate, caring boy trying to change himself for the better. An enigma.

She opened her mouth to speak but found no words to say. Draco cocked his head to the side, judging the glints of emotion in her brown eyes. Then he smiled. A _genuine_ smile. He softly spoke, "I'm a little different that what you expected, aren't I?"

She nodded, bobbing her head up and down in a swift motion, and stood up; she stepped over to Draco's side of the table and caught him in a heartfelt embrace. He was incredibly stiff at first, but he slowly relaxed his muscles and awkwardly wrapped his arms around her willowy frame. It was probably the first hug he had experienced in _years_, and it felt very comforting coming from someone who used to detest him like Hermione. It was especially pleasant that she had chosen to pardon him of his transgressions when he was wallowing in despair and couldn't forgive himself. He rather liked being friends with her; he couldn't remember why he was so opposed to it before.

She pulled away first, giving him a big smile before enthusiastically saying, "C'mon Draco. We must go to the library; I need to finish that fascinating book I was reading yesterday!"

He laughed and rolled his stormy-gray eyes as he walked hand-in-hand with her to his _glorious _library.

…

Over the next few days, they became closer to each other and learned new characteristics of one another—like how Draco's favourite colour was actually Gryffindor-gold, which symbolized victory, and abhorred Potions, which appeared to everyone to be his favourite class. And he learned that Hermione was soft towards animals and magical creatures, especially house-elves, and loved to write short stories about impossible fantasies that didn't seem very realistic or logical, which was quite unlike her. They were somewhat different from what they expected of each other, but they were strangely fascinating to each other. She was her relaxed, less-uptight self around Draco; he brought that side of her out for some reason. And he surprisingly smiled quite a great deal now, which Hermione found quite attractive.

One bright afternoon, they were seated next to each other reading in Draco's bedroom. Rays of sunlight streamed through his windows, illuminating everything and making everything made of marble seem to _sparkle_. Draco leaned towards her—a little too near, she thought—as she read a Muggle fairytale called "Beauty and the Beast" aloud. She flushed as his shoulders brushed against her bare, pale shoulders. She kind of thought of Draco as more than just a platonic way now as he had been nothing but sweet and gentle the past few days, forcing her to fall for his charm. As she finished the last entrancing words, she lightly closed the book and let out a sigh of weariness.

He asked worriedly, "What's wrong?"

She bit her bottom lip and divulged, "I…I had a nightmare last night. It was about w-when your Aunt B-Bellatrix Crucio'd me. It was absolutely _horrible_, Draco."

She suddenly burst into tears, causing Draco to frown severely at the memory, and he immediately wrapped his arms around her protectively. He soothed her with calming words, drying away her infinite tears, and tried to cheer her up with comical memories of their years at Hogwarts. Hermione couldn't resist beaming at him with mixed feelings gleaming in her eyes, feelings that made both of their hearts skip a beat. He removed his arms from her heaving body, turning slightly pink at the realization of maybe liking Hermione than more than just a friend. After all, she was his first _true_ friend.

"I'm glad that madwoman isn't around anymore to taunt us. I hated her and her influence on our family. I'm terribly sorry for everything my family and she have done to you," he growled.

She rested her head upon his shoulder and whispered, "I know."

Using her phrase, he looked her right in the eyes and said in a steady voice, "All it takes is faith and trust. You do trust me, yeah?"

She immediately responded in a wavering voice, "Yeah. Yes, I do."

"Good," he softly said with a smile that just about melted her into a puddle.

-:-

_Certain as the sun _

_Rising in the East _

_Tale as old as time_

_Song as old as rhyme_

_Beauty and the Beast_

-:-

"I don't know how you got me into this," she shrieked and doubled over with laughter as they danced across the ballroom in his manor.

He had mysteriously told her to wear a pretty dress and meet him in the ballroom at 8 pm after a delicious dinner. She was now dressed in a strapless lavender dress that flowed down to her ankles, shimmering under the beautiful lighting. Her light-brown curls freely bounced up and down, as usual, but they were more tamed. And Draco, he looked utterly handsome in his black dress robes as he suavely led her, spinning her and twirling her. His hair was delightfully tousled and long without a single hint of the gel he used to slick his hair back with in their Hogwarts' days. They swayed to the classical musical notes threading through the air, creating a soft, romantic mood. When she bashfully peered up at him, he was looking at her with a serious look that suggested something far from friendly and companionable. More like…_love_? She shyly looked back down at her feet, trying not to concentrate on her cheeks aflame and her racing heart. His finger lifted her chin back up as he stared deeply into her wide, dark brown eyes before saying something.

"I hope I won't break your trust by doing this," he said in a low voice before leaning down and hesitantly kissing her.

He was uncertainly kissing her at first, but when she reciprocated his tender kiss he slightly angled his mouth and kissed her with such a fiery passion that made her moan and respond just as ardently. All the cliché things she always wrote about in her short fantasies were actually happening to her. All the sparks and fireworks she'd penciled onto paper were coming to life. She felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest as she couldn't think straight and smiled against his soft, warm lips.

_It was the most amazing night she had ever experienced in her eighteen years of life._

…

Hermione, of course, stayed longer than two weeks, more like a year. She still stayed in touch with Harry, but Ron was so far beyond angry with her; she laughed so hard until her belly hurt at Harry's letters about Ron. This year was the best of her life, a life of new beginnings for both Draco and her. They had been dating for a year, ever since that magical night spent dancing and kissing in the magnificent ballroom. They went everywhere together, did everything together. They still had fights but made up with apologies and sweet notions. They were the perfect couple. _DracoandHermione_. _Dramione_. She had written their names innumerable times in her journal of short stories and anecdotes—it sounded so beautiful when she said it out loud. But, still being insecure, she wondered how long they would last. If it would be forever or end in a series of terrible fights over nothing like in the romance novels she read.

It was an evening when they were eating their dinner by candlelight. She clasped her hands and squealed in delight when she saw the preparations he had set up—without the house-elves' help, to her pleasure— to make their anniversary extra-special. There was a large assortment of foods laid out on the table with orchids, her favorite flower, beautifying the room and candles each alight with a dancing flame. When they were done eating, she kissed his cheek and thanked him for his thoughtfulness as she had received news the other day about how Ron forgot about Luna's and his one-year anniversary. She was about to scurry out of the dining room when he requested her to wait for a moment.

He reached into his right pocket and took out a midnight-blue box. He opened it and there sat a gleaming diamond ring. He got down on one knee and asked, "Will you, Hermione Jean Granger, will make me the happiest man alive and marry me?"

She put a dainty hand over her mouth with tears of pure happiness threatening to spill out of her eyes. "Yes, oh, YES!"

-:-

_Tale as old as time_

_Song as old as rhyme_

_Beauty and the beast_

o0*.-o-.*0o

_All it takes is faith and trust…_

* * *

><p><strong> First of all,<strong>

** A SPECIAL thank you to Mad (chasingstarlight) for betaing! I LOVE YOU AND YOU'RE SO AMYZHIEING! :D**

**Secondly, thank you for taking the time to read.**

**And please don't favourite without reviewing!**

_**~muSicLuHvER(:**_


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